Paint Me Silver
by akajanedoe
Summary: Margot Potter is usually unshakeable, but when Malfoy's taunts hit a little too close to home she finds herself making a stupid bet. Usually doing impulsive, reckless things was more her brother's hat, but apparently she was overdue. She'd be more impressed with herself for thwarting the goblet of fire's age-line if she hadn't been picked by the damn thing. Eventual OC/Malfoy
1. Chapter 1

The first week back at Hogwarts had been a bit unusual given our foreign visitors, and apparently so was the seating arrangements at the Slytherin table this morning. There were four Beauxbatons airheads parked in my spot.

Blaise and Malfoy were trying their hardest to entertain them, which was a valiant effort given they likely didn't understand English at all. I shot Daphne an amused smirk as we slid a few seats down from our usual seats, and she rolled her eyes.

"How long have they been at it?" I turned to Tracy, who was snickering into her porridge about the scene.

"Since a half hour ago. I'm honestly surprised they've put in as much effort as they have." Tracey set the waffles next to me as she spoke, anticipating I'd reach for my usual breakfast.

"Never underestimate how much Malfoy loves hearing the sound of his own voice. He must be loving this, they don't even know how to interrupt." I drizzled chocolate sauce over my waffles with a healthy helping of strawberries on top, licking my thumb as I closed the lid, to which Daphne scowled.

"Manners," she scolded quietly. I raised an eyebrow and stuck my thumb in the pile of strawberries on my plate and stuck my thumb in my mouth, daring her to complain. She sighed but didn't rise to my bait, she knew I hated being told what to do.

"You know," I said, giving the boys a sidelong glance, "I still haven't given little Draco hell for that debacle on the train." Tracey gave me an annoyed look which I ignored as a chewed my breakfast.

"Don't start something, we don't need another inter-house feud over something stupid."

"It was hardly stupid! He called you a mudblood!" I glared at Tracey.

"Keep your voice down." Tracey hated making a scene. As one of the few half-bloods in Slytherin she was always being talked down to by our housemates, and unlike me, she often chose to let it go and try not to draw more attention to herself. The only reason I didn't get talked down to for being a half-blood was because of who my twin is, but it wasn't like there was a shortage of other reasons for the other Slytherins to talk down to me.

"The total berk wrote 'Mudblood' on your luggage!" Malfoy most certainly deserved a little hell.

"It's not worth the trouble," she hissed. I calmly wiped my mouth on my napkin and placed it neatly by my plate,

"Don't worry, it won't be." I pointed my wand discretely at Malfoy and muttered a spell I'd seen in one of the human transfiguration books I'd found in the restricted section of the library.

Out of Malfoy's head grew two donkey ears. He didn't appear to notice at first, but the French girls looked confused, speaking in French and pointing to his head. Blaise was the first to react, shooting me a grin as he eyed Malfoy's ears, "Why Draco, you should really be less of an ass."

Blaise always seemed to enjoy my antics, much to Malfoy's annoyance. It seemed that today was no exception. Malfoy seemed confused at how the French girls were gesturing to his head, and went to brush his hand through his hair, presumably to check if he had something stuck in it. Technically, he wasn't wrong.

When he grabbed one of his ears he paused before frantically summoning a mirror. "POTTER!"

He marched his way down to my side of the table and leaned forward, spitting mad. I calmly poured myself some more pumpkin juice as his anger festered beside me. He ripped the jug out of my hands when I took too long to give him my attention, which I turned to meet with a bored stare.

"Yes, Malfoy? Is there a reason you're making a scene at the table this morning?" I smirked inwardly, I knew his blood must be boiling. Perhaps if his ego took a time out for once he'd be less of a flustered mess.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the table and across the Great Hall, to my surprise. He'd pulled me passed the doors to the hall before I'd gotten over my shock at being manhandled. "What is the meaning of this?"

He dropped my arm as he stepped forward angrily, "You will not make Slytherin house a laughing stock again this year."

I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms, "Is that so? And how exactly have I done that in the past?" Clearly, I had rankled him more than usual with my little stunt this morning. It was a pity the spell hadn't completely succeeded, he'd find it a lot harder to yell at me if he actually was a donkey. Although I suppose Malfoy did already look like an ass, maybe the spell got confused.

His eyes narrowed at me, "You're a joke Potter, if you even _are _a Potter, that is. You can't hold a candle to that ridiculous brother of yours, and from what I've heard you don't even look like your parents did. Maybe you were just some adopted freak, it'd make more sense."

I flushed, spitting mad. Memories of our horrid Aunt Petunia hitting Harry and I with pots and calling us the same name ran through my head, and I grabbed Malfoy by the collar and dragged him to me. "Listen up you weasel, you'd better get a healthy respect for the people around you really fast or you'll find I have no trouble seeing how far my foot fits up your arse, unlike other half-bloods we know I don't have the same restraint."

This only seemed to egg Malfoy on further as he sneered and broke my grip on my collar to get into my personal space in an effort to intimidate me. "You'd better stop embarrassing our house and keep your head down this year, no more gallivanting around with those ridiculous Gryffindors. Associate with your own house and start acting like one of us."

"I'm starting to want you to make me." I could feel his breath on my face he was so close, I pushed him away.

He straightened his shirt, "We all know you're useless Potter, the unremarkable twin, the outcast."

Malfoy's words flew embarrassingly close to home, much too close for comfort. I grit my teeth as I glared at him, giving him a scathing glare. I was going to tell him off and then give him a matching tail to accompany his donkey ears before my eyes slid to the slightly-parted door to the Great Hall, where I could see the Goblet of Fire. "I'll tell you what Malfoy, I propose a bet."

He gave a short laugh, "On what? What could you possibly have to wager?"

I poked him in the chest, a determined look set on my face. "If I get chosen as the Hogwarts champion then you have to give me your broom."

In hindsight this was one of my stupider plans, offering to put myself in harms way over a broom, but I knew how much he loved that broom, and taking something he loves away from him would be such a treat. Especially since I don't even ride brooms. I'd take great pleasure in burning it in front of him.

Malfoy snorted, "Deal. There's no way someone as dimwitted as you will even get past the age line, let alone be chosen by the damn thing. But if you lose, I want something out of it." Ever the Slytherin.

I crossed my arms impatiently as he paused, "Well, out with it."

He eyed me for a beat, "I want your mom's potions book." How did he even know about that? Snape only gave it to me at the end of last semester when I'd managed to brew a seventh-year potion on my own perfectly with modifications I'd made.

Snape… he must've told Malfoy about the book. Figures, he was his godfather after all.

I was in too deep at this point and too stubborn to back out. "Fine."

Malfoy smirked, "Better finish up reading that book of yours quick there Potter."

It was embarrassingly easy to fool the age line put around the goblet. The red-headed menaces opted for an aging potion and ended up sprouting beards after being kicked out on their arses.

I wasn't stupid enough to challenge the age line openly, so I took advantage of the stupidity of boys. Flint had come to the Great Hall to enter his own slip of parchment with his name into the cup and made sure to boast about it to me outside of the Hall. Flint was always looking to get up my skirt, so it was laughably easy to distract him and exchange his own piece of parchment with one that had my own name on it. Then he entered it in the cup just fine.

Turns out the key was intent. If you knowingly tried to deceive the age line it lashed out, so tricking someone into it seemed to work just fine.

At this point warning bells should have gone off in my head, reminding me that this was a stupid move just to prove a point, and a reckless, utterly _Gryffindor _thing to do, but I was so angry. So angry with how right Malfoy had been. I wasn't seen as the interesting or even likable twin, always the punchline. Always the second choice.

Harry would have punched me if he heard me speak that way about myself, but the little green monster had reared its head and there was no stuffing it back in the box.

That was until it was my name Dumbledore was reading out from a piece of parchment that was spat out of the goblet of fire.

Well shit.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry insisted on walking me back to the Slytherin dorms after Dumbledore, the other headmaster and headmistress had come to the conclusion that Hogwarts would have not one but three champions.

Diggory and the other two champions had seemed a bit in shock, if not outraged at the conclusion they'd come to. Well, the other two looked outraged. Diggory was too nice and utterly _Hufflepuff _about it to be anything other than worried on our behalf.

I ran the events over in my mind as we walked to the dungeons, it'd been a long night. Most of what had happened after my name was called was a blur as I was still in shock that it had even happened. It wasn't supposed to _actually _happen, it was just some stupid bet I'd made with Malfoy that I'd just blow off when I lost. It was only really now that it was sinking in how colossally stupid I'd been.

The Great Hall had been so silent you could've heard the flap of a bird's wing and suddenly it was stifling how many people were staring at me. Daphne finally nudged me when I had moved for over a minute. Weirdest of all, Malfoy also looked a little pale at the announcement, which was a bit of an odd reaction to losing a bet over a broomstick.

Dumbledore had more than a little surprised that I had been selected, but was nowhere near as surprised when Harry's name soon followed. Not only had one underage student been selected, but two.

What was curious though was how Harry's name made it into the cup. I know my brother, he can be hard-headed and reckless but he hated attention, he certainly didn't put his name in that cup. So who did?

"Another uneventful year, huh?" Harry shot sarcastically with a bitter grin. We were only a few hallways down from the Slytherin dorms now. It doesn't surprise me that Harry knew where they were, I wouldn't put it past him to be looking out for me secretly. I always found it hilarious that he thought I needed protection when of the two of us he attracts the most trouble. I should almost be following him around.

I grinned, "I don't think you and boring really go together, given your track record."

He shrugged, "I can dream I guess." We were silent for a few minutes and then he asked, "Weird that we both were entered into the goblet. Usually, these things only happen to me."

I smiled, trying not to show how uncomfortable I was. I'd rather not have my brother know I'd intentionally done something so reckless as entering myself into the competition, I'd never hear the end of it.

"It was only a matter of time before your bad luck rubbed off on me."

He was right though, these things, these freak accidents that later turned out to not be so accidental usually happened to him, I always seemed to avoid being targeted. It likely had something to do with the whole 'Boy Who Lived' thing, but it was also mildly insulting.

It's like how the rest of the wizarding world seemed to forget that I exist. Even Sirius doesn't know what to do with me. Our brief meeting after the events last year at the Shrieking Shack was significantly cooler than when he greeted Harry like he couldn't quite place me. He seems to talk a lot about how much Harry is like our dad when he writes to me, when he remembers to write at all, but he usually has very little to say about me. He seems almost hesitant when talking to me like he doesn't trust himself to not say the wrong thing. To be totally honest, it's a little disheartening since he took to Harry so quickly.

One afternoon over the summer Harry and I were on the swingset at the park that was only a few blocks away from Privet Drive when he mentioned that I kind of looked a bit like Sirius.

"It's the eyes, and the straight dark hair," he'd said. The day before we'd been paging through the photo album of our parents Lupin had sent over the summer that he said we should have. In the photos of our parents, Harry had noticed how similar he looked to dad, and how I didn't really bare all that much resemblance to either of them. Skin tone, facial features, eyes, nothing seem to really visibly connect us as related.

When we got a few pages further in the album we found old photos of Sirius with our parents and an unnamed woman who looked related to him. Interestingly, I bore more resemblance to both Sirius and the mystery woman than my parents that were in the same picture. Sirius and the woman both had the piercing grey eyes that I shared and very similar bone structures, it was a little unnerving.

We'd both dismissed the lack of resemblance, we both knew we were twins there was no doubt about that. However, it had begged the question of who I did take after. And who were we related to? Muggles talk about genetics and how some children don't look like their parents since recessive genes 'took over,' causing the child to resemble other relatives. Perhaps I looked like a grandparent, or maybe an aunt?

Harry and I had always had a big question mark over our dad's family, it was the one mystery we'd still not solved. It also seemed like wizarding family trees were more connected than telephone lines, so perhaps we were related to Sirius somewhere down the line? It was all speculation really at this point. I suppose we could just ask Sirius, but something had always held me back from asking. I can't quite put my finger on it.

The question of my genetics had always served to set me even further apart from my brother, though. It was easy to forget the Boy Who Lived had a sibling when she didn't miraculous escape the icy grip of death at the hands of Voldemort and didn't even look remotely related to boot. Maybe if I'd had a mass of uncontrollable black hair and green eyes the wizarding world would say "Ah, Potter 2.0."

I suppose there are advantages to that though, I'm not typically thought of in conjunction with Harry. I tend to be treated as a separate person and don't face the level of scrutiny his name seems to inspire. Not to say I get totally forgotten and that people never remember that he's my twin, it's just his actions seem to have very little bearing on my own reputation overall. It's like comparing an apple to an orange.

Soon enough we were at the entrance to the Slytherin common room. I turned to say goodnight and found myself wrapped in a tight hug. "Be careful Mag. I don't have a good feeling about this."

I felt a pang at his admittance. I'd caused him to worry unnecessarily if I'd just stopped and not done anything rash. What's done is done though, at least this way I can keep an eye on him and have his back if anything shady goes down during the tasks.

I pulled back and smiled softly. "I will. And do try to keep out of trouble, will you? I know it's a moot point, but for my peace of mind?"

He grinned and shook his head, "Anything for you Mag."

The Slytherin common room was in full swing by the time I stepped inside and I was more than a little shocked at the reception I received. There were banners strewn across the walls with 'Potter' written in large bold silver letters on a deep green banner and students everywhere drinking butterbeer, firewhiskey, and other alcoholic drinks. In the corner I could see the prefects whisking away the younger years, not wanting them to be amongst the drinking students.

"It's Margot! She's here!" someone yelled from the back, and everyone turned and cheered, raising cups in a toast as I stood shocked. For a house that's barely tolerated me since I started here, they sure seemed interested in my accomplishments now.

"Oh, there she is," I heard Daphne say in exasperation as she pulled Tracey over to me. "Where have you been? It's been pandemonium in here."

I raised an eyebrow with a small smile, "Did you not miss how pissed Dumbledore and the other headmaster's were? As if we weren't going to be questioned about our involvement with the goblet."

She nodded, realizing that made sense and sighed. "Why can't you pick up a new hobby like knitting or something, rather than giving me a heart-attack every year. It's bad enough you followed that idiotic brother of yours into trouble all the time, now you seem to follow trouble all on your own."

I grimaced, "It's not like this is a regular thing, it's just this once I've brought this on myself."

Tracey grinned beside Daphne, "So you did put your name in the cup! Why'd you do it? That's a bit out of character for you, don't you think?"

At the mention of my own stupidity, I scanned the room for Malfoy and couldn't see him anywhere. "Oh you know, this and that."

Tracey spluttered, "This and that? That's the most useless answer you've ever given me-"

I didn't hear what she said after that, I shot Daphne a look and she knew that I wanted out.

We made our way to our dormitory for the night, Tracey trailing behind us, demanding to know why I would do such a thing but I ignored her. I wasn't in the mood to explain my pig-headedness, now I had to worry about staying alive.

The other houses had never exactly been the biggest fans of Slytherin, but they downright hated us now. Apparently, the fact I was a champion made Hufflepuff house dislike me for stealing Diggory's thunder, who was a member of Hufflepuff himself. It probably would have just ended there, if the Slytherins hadn't have kept rubbing it in Hufflepuff's face that they had a champion from their house.

Ravenclaw never really had much to do with Slytherin in the first place but most avoided us now at all costs, likely incensed that they were the only Hogwarts house that didn't have a champion.

The most interesting part though was that while Slytherin seemed to support me wholeheartedly (to my surprise, and definitely not by my doing), Gryffindor seemed to have made my brother a pariah. He sat almost alone at the Gryffindor table at breakfast, with only Granger keeping him company until that moron Ron said something snide and she went to sit by him. I decided to join Harry, it'd been a while since we'd had any proper sibling bonding time anyway.

"Good morning bedhead," I teased, ruffling his unruly mop as I dropped into the seat next to him and grabbed a piece of toast off of his plate. He groaned.

"Why can't you just take a piece of toast off of the platter? It's right there. No need to steal mine." He gestured to the stacks of white bread that sat to his left and I just shrugged.

"Also, why're you over here at the Gryffindor table? Been excommunicated from the snake pit?"

I snorted, "Hardly. They're about ready to swear fealty to me as their leader at this point. The one time I accidentally bend the rules they're ready to acknowledge I'm one of them."

I was chewing on a piece of toast when I was whacked lightly on the back, to my surprise.

"Well my my, it's the more slippery Potter-"

"The more scaley Potter-"

"And what brings you to these woods?"

I choked a little on my toast. Damn those Weasley twins. I swallowed slowly and fixed them with a scrutinizing look. "Just eating my toast, what do you think it looks like?"

Fred- or George, who can tell them apart really - grinned in response. "Well we hate to cut this little soirée short, but we have some business with you."

Harry looked over, confused. "Business?" I shrugged, confused as well. Why on earth would I have anything to do with the Weasley twins.

"I haven't got the faintest you're referring to boys."

"Well follow us," one of them called over their retreating backs, leaving the Great Hall. I shrugged at Harry and made to follow them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi guys, thanks so much for reading, I'm grateful you took the time. I'm always interested in anything you have to say and looking for feedback or suggestions so feel free to shoot me a review if you feel like piping up. In the true spirit of exam season I've been procrastinating and writing this story instead of my actual work, so you can expect more chapters soon once exams are over since I really need to buckle down.**

**I mean who can blame me, Mag and Harry are definitely more fun than asynchronous programming right?**

**Cheers,**

**thea**

* * *

Where on earth did those two nuisances go? The Weasley menaces had only been a few yards ahead of me, leading me out of the Great Hall and then disappeared the moment I pushed open the giant door. Puzzled, I peeked my head around the corner to the main corridor. "Hello? What is the meaning of this Weasleys?"

I walked up one of the moving staircases that led one floor up when a pair of hands yanked me from behind into a dark alcove

"Agh-What? You!" I shrieked, smacking each of the twins with one of my hands when I recognized their twin grins.

"What on earth? What do you want from me?" I was about ready to just about march back into the Great Hall and leave the twits there.

"Well, answers of course." I couldn't tell which was which. For the sake of argument, I guess I'll just call the twin on the left Fred. Not that they would tell me who was who if I asked.

I snorted. "What, bombing your potions homework? Aren't you supposed to be a year older? Must sting to ask a fourth year."

Their infernal grins only seem to widen, to my annoyance. "Actually we're two years older our little snakeling, but who's counting really -"

"And we're referring to your little magical goblet trick." The other one piped up. It's scary how they even have the same voice, even identical twins don't usually share the same tone. They really play up the whole 'doppelganger' thing.

"Goblet trick? What trick? You think I signed up to be on the chopping block?" I tossed my hair over my shoulder in exasperation, fixing them with my best haughty, utterly Slytherin glare. How on earth did they know?

Say what you will about Slytherin, but nothing leaves our house. When you're the most mistrusted house in the school you were expected to provide a united front against the rest, it was practically drilled into our heads on our first night here after our sorting, Snape impressing on us in the common room that while inter-house conflicts were bound to happen they were to be resolved internally. A divided house meant a weak house, and Slytherins have never been a fan of weakness.

"That's exactly what you did, and we have proof."

I cocked my head to the side with a smirk, meeting their triumphant smiles without a beat.

"If you're bragging to a Slytherin that you have dirt on them then you'd better be ready to prove it."

"You're the quiet Potter-"

"The side-lined Potter, you don't get dragged into Harry's traps by anyone by Harry himself."

"So why on earth would you be singled out along with him? Voldy-"

"Sweet Voldikins-"

"-has never shown an interest before?"

My smirk faltered for a second as what they said sunk in. "You think that Voldemort had something to do with this?"

It seemed possible, but I'd really hoped my gut was wrong. Unfortunately, I didn't seem to be the only one drawing this conclusion.

The twins' smiles slipped a bit as well, "Or at least someone else meaning Harry wrong, but history suggests a trend."

"-But you definitely are a new addition to Voldy's invite-only boy band."

I scoffed, "So what? That doesn't mean anything. Maybe he's just realized I'm a threat to him as well."

The right twin's grin became a touch sardonic, "Now Maggie, we both know you're a right pistol, but Voldy's not necessarily the sharpest tool in the shed."

"And how do you know what a pistol is, aren't you Weasleys a sheltered bunch from the muggles?" I do so love talking to myself. I might as well be given how much the Weasley twits just *ignore* me.

"How many times has Harry fought him off now, three?"

I scowled a bit at the memories, "Only because Hermione and I keep him afloat. Harry couldn't find his way out of a paper bag without a swift kick."

"But that's not all Maggie dear-"

"Don't call me that," I growled, knowing they'd just ignore me.

"No, we saw you in the restricted section at night-"

"Naughty, naughty-"

"And we couldn't help but notice how enraptured you were with this cute little book, right Forge?"

"Right Gred. Something about age lines?"

I flushed a touch at that admission. Ah, apparently I hadn't been as sly as I'd hoped. How on earth did they know I was in the restricted section though? I'd borrowed my dad's cloak from Harry and everything. "I was curious, and as I recall you also had an invested interest in age lines."

"Yes, given that we were studying how to _thwart_ one. Nice try ducking that one Mags-"

"Don't. Call. Me that."

"-But even you can't pretend that you weren't thinking the same thing."

"Not to mention you're too quiet for the big bad guys to want your head too, you're just not as theatrical as Harrikins-"

"A supporting role at best dearest."

I crossed my arms and huffed. "I am NOT a 'supporting role,' I'm the damn co-star you insignificant twits, and have you met me? Quiet? Have you been sniffing glue?"

"Glue?" One of the twins asked, scrunching up his nose in bewilderment.

The other paid it no mind, "Tut tut Maggot, it seems we've struck a chord."

"-Not that you're a shrinking violet, my dear, you just tend to keep your antics in-school instead of plastered in the paper like brother-dearest."

My mood wasn't improving the longer I entertained their utter nonsense. "Well that's what happened boys, I don't know what to tell you."

"How about the truth? Seems like a good place to start-"

"As good as any really."

I went to leave, peeling back the tapestry that obscured us from view, but one of the gangly freckled gits wrestled me back into the alcove. "Get off me you bloody animal!"

"Not until you spill the beans hissy."

"-Hissy Gred? Your creativity sure took a hit today, put some effort in yeah."

"Don't see you hitting comedy gold over there Forge."

"Well let's have it Maggot, how'd you dupe old Dumbly?"

I sniffed, slyly lowering my wand into my hand from where it was hidden in my sleeve, keeping my hand slightly behind my back for discretion. "I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about gingersnap, and I suggest you stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

Before the twins could try to wrestle more out of me I cast a handy sandstorm hex I'd found in a book just the other week and split, leaving the identical menaces to hack up sand in their little hidey hole.

As I walked briskly up the stairs and up a few floors I accidentally crossed paths with my brother, obviously finished breakfast. He shot me a questioning look as I shook sand out of my hair. "What was that all about with Fred and George?"

I rolled my eyes, "Something about having an in with a Slytherin to gain access to our common room, I turned them down flat. I don't need them wreaking havoc where I live thank you very much." These days it was almost too easy to lie to Harry, which surprised me. Realistically I should feel a twinge and feel bad about it, we used to share everything, but for some reason it just didn't bother me the way it would've in the past. Not sure why.

Harry chuckled at my little fib, shaking his head. "Wouldn't have expected any less from those two. I'm about to Potions, you coming?"

"Potions? I thought I had charms next." My forehead creasing, I had so been looking forward to taking a nap in that class. _As if_ I hadn't already worked ahead.

Harry flashed me an indulgent smile, "'Fraid not Mag, it's double Potions today, it's Wednesday, remember?"

I just groaned and followed him to the dungeons.

Potions was always about as fun as pulling teeth. Not the subject, rather, but Snape was just an absolute *gem.* Snape absolutely loathed Harry because of dad being a bit of a prick back in school, but he never quite knew what to do with me.

On principle Snape was supposed to like his Slytherins, at least that's the reputation he liked to maintain. He doted on them, (not outright dote, but the Snape equivalent) and in his class they could do no wrong. While Goyle completely screwed up his potions in class, Snape still passed him with an 'Acceptable' when really Goyle warranted a 'Troll.' Parkinson always passed her work off on other Slytherins around her, claiming she didn't want to ruin her nails and Snape never called her on it when if any Gryffindor tried that they'd be scrubbing cauldrons for weeks if they were lucky.

However, Snape seemed to just completely ignore me in class for the most part and I'd catch him sneaking a questioning glance at me from behind his desk everyone once in a while like I was a scary puzzle he couldn't solve. Once in a blue moon though, he would pull me aside and give me minute advice on whatever potions personal projects I might be working on. He seemed to have a quiet respect for me that had never quite made sense. It had been a particularly revealing moment when he'd given me my mother's potions book, never explaining why he had it in the first place. If I was a puzzle to him, he was a goddamn wall of hieroglyphics to me.

Despite being his best student in Potions, (eat that Granger) he hardly paid me much attention in class besides the occasional approving nod before sweeping like a bat over to the Gryffindors to aggravate them as much as possible. Usually, he stuck to Harry like white on rice, popping up at any moment that he could find a reason to take points. I'd pity Harry more if I didn't find it slightly hilarious. Of course, his preoccupation with aggravating my brother left Malfoy to run his mouth at me without interruption.

"Say, Potter, do you think if you drink this poison you could save yourself the humiliation of dying in the tournament?" He held up a little vial of his completed potion, which was a few shades lighter than it was supposed to be. Thank god idiocy isn't contagious.

I finished bottling my perfect, cerulean-coloured potion and didn't look up from my table. "Derek dear, I notice you still haven't paid up after losing our little bet."

I could practically hear Malfoy's annoyed look from over here. "Don't call me that. And what on earth do you want my broom for? You can't ride one to save your life Potter."

"It's not a matter of wanting to use it myself, Dennis dear, it's more that _you_ can't use it anymore." My eyes glowed as I smirked at him. I wanted my prize damn it.

Malfoy just shrugged and grinned lazily, "Well you'll just have to wait, I sent it to mother to get it cleaned."

I snorted, who got their broom cleaned? An obvious diversion if I ever saw one, and he calls himself a Slytherin. "Sure you did, well I guess you'll just have to provide me with insurance until your broom comes back then, can't have you weaseling out of our deal now, can we?"

I'd anticipated the absolute weasel would play this game, so I'd gone and found myself some insurance. I swiftly pulled a rather worn stuffed dragon out of my bag and lovingly held it up for my housemates to see. "Isn't that right, Poofer?" The Slytherins started to laugh, Zabini almost falling off his chair as Malfoy's stuffed dragon made its Potions class debut.

I don't think I'd ever seen Malfoy go so pale. "Where- Where on earth did you get that?" He leaped out of his chair and tried to snatch it from my hands, but I kept it out of reach.

I sniggered, dancing away from his grip, "I have my ways. Poofer and I will be staying close buds until your broom makes a reappearance. Who knows, maybe I'll be a better friend than you? At least I don't suck my thumb at night, something to be said about maturity." My smirk was almost Cheshire cat level at this point, the guffawing Slytherins only wheezing harder at my jab.

"Give it here Potty," Malfoy hissed, looking ready to murder. He took another swipe but I dangled the dragon over my still-full cauldron.

"Nah-ah-ah Dean dearest, wouldn't want to accidentally drop Poofer here, who knows what the acidity of this poison will do in contact with the fabric." Nothing, absolutely nothing, but stuffing for brains didn't know that. If he spent half as much time actually reading his textbooks instead of stalking my brother like a deranged maniac he'd actually know that. Malfoy actually was fairly decent at Potions, but he, like my moron brother, lacked the self-control to actually buckle down on his studies. It shows.

"That's enough for today, you're all done wasting my time today. Pack up and place your potions on my desk if you haven't already." Snape drawled, ignoring our obvious antics. I hastily placed the dragon back in my bag, keeping it close at hand before vanishing my potion and quickly placing it in the cupboard, making a beeline for the door before Malfoy could get a word in. Serves him right, the predictable prick.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi all,**

**Exams are over now (thank god, that dragged on forever), and consequently you'll all be seeing more updates as I have a bit more free time after work. As always I love getting your feedback, please please shoot me a review, I always like to know what you guys think.**

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**Thea**

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* * *

The large broom-shaped package arrived in front of Malfoy to no one's surprise at the Slytherin table the next morning, when his owl gracefully dropped it in the blond ponce's lap, who feigned shock, "What a surprise, my broom was cleaned earlier than expected." Malfoy tried to say casually, even though I could still hear a tinge of anger and embarrassment in his voice. Daphne nudged me at that, silently encouraging me to take the proffered olive branch. It's sometimes annoying how often she tries to play peacekeeper in our house.

I heaved a great sign into my porridge, without looking up and drawled back in a flat voice, "How positively miraculous Malfoy. You'll find that blasted dragon tied to the chandelier in your dorm room."

Malfoy paled slightly at my words and dropped his broom to walk quickly out of the hall, likely to stash the stuffed dragon before his roommates decided to start another round of laughter at his expense. I summoned his broomstick into my hand from his side of the table and shrunk it before placing it in my messenger bag before resuming my meal, my housemates looking slightly amused. "What would you do with a broom anyways, Potter? Everyone knows you're useless with one," Zabini drawled as he went to pick up the bowl of strawberries I'd been eating straight out of to my left.

I moved to bowl to my right side, just out of his reach as I munched on a strawberry and cast him an unimpressed look. "You mean a Slytherin can't see the value of keeping something that your opponent desires? How very… embarrassing for you."

Zabini didn't seem flustered at all at my comment, which would have been impressive had it been any other Slytherin, but Blaise had always been of the more unshakeable variety. Instead, he quirked his lips in a sly smile and shot back at me. "Of course I can see the value in that, it's more of a matter of what *you* could possibly want out of Malfoy. It's not like you're exactly hurting for money or prestige."

It was no secret at Hogwarts that the Potter family was well off and still a well-respected house, even though our numbers had all but dwindled entirely. Harry might be oblivious to the power of our family name, but as someone who grew up in the snake pit it's impossible not to understand which families held power in the wizarding world, and the Potters were no slouch. It was also true that Harry and I had a sizeable fortune split between us, sitting in Gringotts. That being said, I can never pass up an opportunity to have something over Malfoy. It would seem like such a lost opportunity.

I shot him a slightly perplexed look, "I would be a moron to pass on having one over on Malfoy. Who knows when he could be useful to me."

By all right, this should have shut Zabini up, but he only seemed to smile wider, "Or, maybe you just want an excuse to have him wrapped around your little finger…"

Daphne giggled next to me but I sat back confused, "Well yeah, that's what I just said Zabini. Are you going deaf?"

Tracey also chuckled at my comment. Had someone snuck a giggling tonic into the porridge today?

Daphne seemed to take pity, "Oh just leave her be Zabini, we all know the two of them are too dense and stubborn to take the hint anyway."

"What hint? What on earth are you all going on about?" I sniped, but Tracey quickly changed the subject to the upcoming quidditch match, and before I could badger answers out of her the first bell rang for us to go to class.

I narrowed my eyes at the bunch as I stood up from the table, "We'll talk about this later." It annoyed me how little they seemed to react. Zabini's stupid grin was still hijacking his face.

* * *

I had to take several secret shortcuts to make it to defense on time, out of necessity to avoid those incessant Weasley twins who were now relentlessly badgering me for information on how I entered the tournament, and I arrived several minutes late and slightly out of breath. By the time I got to the classroom the only seat available was next to Malfoy, curiously. He raised an eyebrow when I sat down next to him but didn't comment, even though Moody had yet to enter the room.

"How come you're sitting on your own? Don't one of your cronies usually sit with you or something?" I asked, a bit suspicious.

Malfoy looked perplexed as well if a bit annoyed. "Of course, but for some reason today the other Slytherins were adamant that they partner with each other."

I scoffed, "Obviously they're trying to punish us for something we did."

Malfoy scowled back, "_Obviously_ something you did. Have you already blackmailed someone else today and pissed them off?"

I shrugged, and Moody banged open the door to the classroom and staggered in before I could comment.

"Today, we will be learning about the imperius curse," he barked. Then he had us all get in a line.

"The only way you'll be able to throw off dark wizards who cast the imperius on you is if you know how to throw it off, so best practice." The Slytherins didn't protest but looked uneasy, while the Hufflepuffs gasped in fear.

MacMillan cried out in outrage. "You can't do that! That's illegal!" Moody seemed to ignore him though and pushed everyone to get organized, clearly not interested in hearing any excuses. Personally, I didn't see much problem with this. It wasn't like he could make us do anything particularly dastardly, what with Dumbledore to answer to and a class full of students as witnesses. The worst he could do is make you look stupid.

The first up was Hannah Abbott, who danced around like a chicken for a few seconds before Moody canceled the curse and called the next student. Every student so far seemed to fall victim to the curse and do a range of stupid things as Moody tempted them to. By the time he got to me, I was ready to try my hand at throwing off the curse, eager after hearing from one of the Hufflepuffs that Harry had been able to throw it off in the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw defense class yesterday.

However Moody paused for a second when I stepped forward from the front of the line and frowned, "No, you won't be participating today Miss Potter. Madame Pomfrey still hasn't cleared you for practical spellwork yet in class after your illness."

Illness? What on earth was he going on about? I hadn't been to the hospital wing all semester. I was shocked into silence for a pause before I tilted my head at Moody, staring into his commanding gaze, "Oh, right sir," I muttered, shuffling to the back of the line, furious. I didn't bother to correct him, I didn't know what he was playing at but if I've learned anything from Snape over the years, openly calling him out probably would only piss him off and he wouldn't want to tell me the truth later. Fine, I can wait but I'm getting answers.

It seemed I wouldn't need to provide an excuse to stick around after class, as right after I slunk to the back of the room Moody called out, "And stay after class, Potter." Just what was the paranoid old coot up to?

Malfoy shot me a surprised and confused look from the front of the line, before warily stepping forward where Moody took special glee in making him hop like a bunny up on desk all over the classroom. If nothing else, Moody's vendetta against Malfoy was at least amusing.

Once the bell rang and the rest of the class filed out, I walked up to the front of the class, where Moody was pretending to read something at his desk until I coughed and he looked up. _As if_ he didn't know I'd come looking for answers.

"Why on earth would you bench me from our lesson today Professor? You and I know that story about not being cleared wasn't true, I haven't been sick at all."

His magical eye whirled around to look at me as he stood and lumbered out from behind his desk. "Potter, your brother is at a distinct disadvantage in this tournament and needs all the help he can get."

I crossed my arms over my chest as I appraised him. "I fail to see what that has to do with me sitting out of Defense class."

Moody staggered over to a desk and sat down on the desktop across from me. "Potter you need to lay low and not draw attention to yourself so you can help Mr. Potter as much as you can."

What he was saying didn't make a whole lot of sense. Harry was by no means a slouch when it comes to defending himself and often has much better luck than I do when it comes to getting out of sticky situations. Why was Moody trying to get me to spend all my time supporting my brother when I was in exactly the same dangerous position? Wouldn't that make us both in an equal amount of danger? Also, how exactly am I going to help Harry? Sure, I tend to perform better in class than my brother and study outside of my classes on subjects beyond the curriculum, but if anything Harry and I are on the same footing. I perform better simply because I _try,_ whereas Harry just coasts because it doesn't matter as much to him.

With all of these questions in mind, what made me suspicious above all was why Moody cared if I support my brother. Moody was probably acting on Dumbledore's orders to help Harry through the tournament as Harry is significantly younger than the other contenders, but why would Moody place responsibility in another fourteen year old to look after Harry? Surely there are other adults far more suited to the job, and it's not like I'll be able to spend much time during the tournament looking out for him, I would very much like to survive the tournament myself thank you very much.

"Why would that be my responsibility and what does that have to do with 'laying low?'" I was becoming less impressed with Moody by the minute. Tactically, his reasoning for singling me out wasn't sound and also wasted my time. Clearly he hadn't been a Slytherin while he was at Hogwarts.

Moody's one real eye narrowed at me, apparently not a fan of my impertinence. "There are dark, dark wizards after your brother, Potter. You don't want to win this tournament, or it'll be you they'll be going after. You've managed to fly under the Dark Lord's radar so far, but keep thwarting magic cups and stirring up trouble and it won't be just your brother on the chopping block." His eyes seemed to flash before he shook his head.

It was really hard to get a read on Moody, and it was a bit unnerving. "And my brother is on the chopping block right now, so you want me to make sure he doesn't get chopped."

Moody nodded once. "Your teachers know about your excellent magical abilities. Don't go showing off or it'll limit how much you can help your brother from the shadows. Now run along."

I scowled at his condescending tone and swept out of the classroom, with a lot to chew on. Something wasn't right, but I just couldn't put my finger on it. As soon as I walked out of the hall leading to the Defense classroom, someone grabbed my arm and pulled me aside.

"Let go! Jesus, what's wrong with you!"

"Shut it, Potter," Malfoy said, releasing my arm as he looked out into the hallway and saw it was deserted. "Why did Moody make you sit out?"

Great. Now Malfoy was nosing around, so _not_ what I needed at the moment. "What on earth are you babbling about Malfoy? I was instructed to sit out by Madame Pomfrey, simple as that."

"Oh? And what were you sick _with_ Potter?"

I gave him a fake 'shy' smile and pretended to blush, "Well, you know it's my time of the month and I was feeling-"

Malfoy seemed to shudder for a second before smirking, "Yeah, yeah, so what's the real story. You're just saying that because it'll make me uncomfortable. Nice try, you haven't been to the hospital wing at all in the last three weeks."

It was my turn to feel surprised and uncomfortable. Arching an eyebrow I crossed my arms, "And _exactly how_ would you know that Malfoy?" Had the blond twerp been _watching_ her?

Malfoy didn't seem embarrassed by this admission though, only looking unimpressed, "You cause problems everywhere you go, Potter, keeping tabs on you is a public service to our house."

I didn't buy it, the douche was probably following me around to try and getting something on me. I'd have to be better about using the cloak when I'm walking around the castle now.

"So why did Moody single you out? Why did he make you stay behind?" Malfoy had a weird, curious glint in his eye.

I grabbed my messenger bag and heaved it over my shoulder, making to leave. "None of your business weasel, let it go. I suggest you stick your big nose somewhere it belongs."

I almost expected Malfoy to follow me as I tried to walk away, but when I looked back he was just standing where I left him looking pensive, like he was trying to figure out a difficult math problem. It didn't really look like someone 'letting it go.'

Great, I guess I just acquired another person who was going to badger me and be a pain in the ass.


End file.
